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Monday, November 2, 2009

The Story of Toothpaste and "Amy"

Los Angeles is a crazy place. There is a giant tube of toothpaste standing out on Wilshire Boulevard below my office. Awkward. Halloween is over buddy. I just felt the need to excitedly notify my boss over his intercom "Look out your window! There is toothpaste outside!" and he didn't find it the least bit amusing but I personally cannot take my eyes off the fella. Well ok, I had to take my eyes off him to write this, but I'm keeping watch in my peripheral vision. Yes he is still there. Each person that walks by him avoids eye contact. Maybe because they haven't visited a dentist in years and feel guilty. Or maybe because they don't want to be associated with a man in public wearing a costume that much too closely resembles the KKK outfit. (Would 'outfit' be the proper word choice there? I think I will actually go with 'KKK uniform'.)

The other day I spotted a used First Response pregnancy test sitting on the top of a mailbox. I couldn't help but be nosey and check out the reading and I'm happy to say somebody is gonna be a Mommacita. I'm not quite sure why someone left it on the mailbox though and I haven't given it too much thought, but if I had to guess how that scenario went down I would say that a girl named "Amy" just moved to LA to follow her dreams in acting, met a "producer" at a shady bar and had a one night stand. "Amy" is a horrible actress and can't land an audition, let alone a role, so she is completely broke and doesn't have a way to pay her cell phone or Internet bill so she had all service cancelled (but don't worry, she still has Tivo so she can keep up with Gossip Girl) and the only way to get in contact with the baby daddy fake-producer who just moved back to his family's farm in Kansas to let him know that he has a kid on the way is to resort to the old fashioned snail mail method but when she gets to the mailbox she realizes she doesn't have an envelope to send the pregnancy test in and so she sets it down and runs back to the bus stop to go back to her apartment to get an envelope. That's where I enter. (I'm 43% sure that is how it all went down, but your guess is as good as mine...)

Uh oh. He is gone. The toothpaste that is. I think I lost him during my pregnancy test story. And now there is a lady in bright orange Crocs standing in his place. Unlike toothpaste man who was probably soliciting dentistry or trying to lure in small children with toothbrushes, I'm not sure what this lady is selling. If she is soliciting herself she is the world's first prostitute in Crocs. I don't blame her though, stilettos aren't nearly as sexy as fluorescent plastic flats that 2 year-olds and Rosie O'Donnell swear by.